The Underlying Truth
by Le soleil brille pas pour toi
Summary: Wonka is a twisted man. The Golden Ticket affair was just to amuse himself, toying with the guests' lives. This is what really went on during the tour on February 1st. Rated T just in case.
1. Foreword

/-----\

**The Underlying Truth**

Foreword

_Nullum Gratuitum_

\-----/

Upon watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (for the 28th time...) recently, I began to think - Tim Burton directed this film, but it isn't nearly as, well, Burton-like as Edward Scissorhands or the Corpse Bride.

It was then that I payed close attention to whatever undertones I happened to catch.

When I thought about it enough, I could see things that might not be so apparent: Wonka smiling where one should be shocked, coincidences that even the movie characters themselves noticed.

Taking all this into consideration, I decided to write out my version of what happened in this film - and Wonka's _true_ intentions for the children.

Enjoy.

:-----:


	2. Prologue

/-----\

**The Underlying Truth**

Prologue

_Nullum Gratuitum_

\-----/

For days, Wonka did nothing but sit in the TV Room and flipped between the News channels. He did not have to wait long.

After only one day, the first Ticket finder was featured.

A boy called Augustus Gloop had found a Golden Ticket in his Nutty Crunch Surprise bar. Wonka smirked. He was counting on at least one fat child to visit his factory. Many ideas were already chasing each other about in his mind.

He scribbled down a list of the plots he had thought up on a notepad he had on a table next to his chair.

He reviewed the list over and over, and finally settled on one brilliant plan. He called an Oompa Loompa over and relayed to it what he needed to put his idea into action on the day of February 1st.

The Oompa Loompa nodded warily - it knew how Wonka could get when the Oompa Loompas opposed his orders. It scurried off to prepare Wonka's trap.

-----

A few days later, the next child was featured on the News. The snobby British brat, Veruca Salt, had demanded to find a Ticket and her father had complied, spending thousands on bars and finally locating it.

Wonka knew how this one would go. He had to let her see something she didn't - _couldn't_ - have, and her own greed would be her downfall.

The difficult part was thinking of what she didn't already have, and making it dangerous. Then, Wonka's eyes lit up. He had just the perfect thing.

-----

The next day, two more Ticket finders were on the News.

Violet Beauregarde had pushed herself to find a Ticket just for the sake of winning. She was keen on winning the 'Grand Prize' - Wonka grinned. The higher their spirits, the more fun it is to crush them.

Wonka still hadn't thought of a way to dispose of her when the next finder was being interviewed.

Mike Teavee - the video gaming, smart mouthed little hacker had basically _cheated_ to find his bar... and didn't even like chocolate. Wonka decided that this one would be picked on the most.

He pondered for a few minutes before deciding on a suitable trap for the know-it-all boy, and as soon as the Oompa Loompas had started the preparations, another brilliant idea had come to mind, for the Beauregarde child. Wonka scribbled that down too and sent even more Oompa Loompas to prepare.

-----

Wonka remained in front of the television for the remaining days before his tour. The traps for the other four children were ready and waiting for their victims, and Wonka was ready and waiting for his _last_ victim - the fifth finder of the Golden Tickets.

He sat and waited, waited and sat.

But word of the last child didn't come.

:-----:


	3. Arrival

/-----\

**The Underlying Truth**

Arrival

_Nullum Gratuitum_

\-----/

As the clock neared the hour of 10, Wonka waited somewhat impatiently for the final minute to pass. He regarded the five children and five adults waiting outside the gates and simply couldn't wait for his day of fun to begin.

When the minute hand of the oh-so-precise clock on his wall reacheded the 12, Wonka excitedly pressed the 'Gate Open' button.

His guests did not move. He prompted them to walk through the threshold with a monotonous "Please enter" over the speaker.

When they stopped just after passing through the iron bars, Wonka became agitated. Did he need to tell them to do _everything_?

"Come forward," he directed once again with his slightly mocking tone.

They moved at his command. "Close the gates," were his last instructions through the speaker system, more as a reminder to himself than anything else.

As the guests continued to walk toward the factory doors, Wonka finished his speech through the microphone he held.

"Dear guests... It is my great pleasure to welcome you to my humble factory. And who am I? Well..." The front of the factory slid open smoothly and the interior curtains parted to reveal his puppet introduction.

As his guests watched with what he assumed was enjoyment, Wonka crept out from a side door to stand in the line the visitors had formed.

The puppets' song finished and Wonka clapped, bringing himself to attention for the first time.

"Wasn't that just magnificent? I was worried it was getting a little dodgy in the middle part, but then that finale... Wow!"

He marched up the steps to stand in front of the ten guests, still thinking of how the melting plastic looked like candy being made.

"Who are you?" demanded a blonde gum-chewing girl.

"He's Willy Wonka!" an old man said excitedly, before Wonka could introduce himself properly.

"Really?" said the scruffy-looking child beside him. That was the one who Wonka hadn't seen on television.

Unable to come up with anything else to say, Wonka recited a bit of one of his favorite songs: "Good morning starshine. The Earth says hello!"

The guests didn't seem to understand what he was trying to state. Then again, he didn't quite understand either.

Wonka retrieved a card from the inside pocket of his jacket and read the greeting he had prepared earlier. "Dear guests, greetings. Welcome to the factory. I shake you warmly by the hand." He reached out a hand to emphasize his greeting, then retracted it upon seeing the visitors' expressions. "My name is Willy Wonka."

"Then shouldn't you be up there?" inquired a girl in a fur coat, pointing to a throne-like chair on the puppet stage with a large 'W' imprinted on it.

Wonka thought it was obvious why not. "I couldn't very well watch the show from up there, now, could I, li'l girl?" It wasn't every day you got to see a performance like that.

As if the greetings weren't taking long enough, the old man stepped forward slightly to address him. "Mr. Wonka, I don't know if you'll remember me, but I used to work here in the factory."

Wonka immediately held a cold stature. "Were you one of those despicable spies who every day tried to steal my life's work and sell it to those parasitic, copycat, candy-making cads?"

"No, sir!"

"Then wonderful. Welcome back." Wonka wasn't quite convinced though. He would keep a eye on the old coot. "Let's get a move on, kids."

As they finally turned to enter the factory, the fat child spoke up. "Don't you vahnt to know our names?"

"Can't imagine how it would matter." Wonka already knew most of their names, anyway, from watching them carefully on the news. "Come quickly, far too much to see."

The doors closed behind them.

"Just drop your coats anywhere," Wonka said, tossing his own jacket to the floor. The others followed suit.

"Mr. Wonka? Sure is toasty in here," said a balding man with an appallingly horrid comb-over.

"What?" Wonka was somewhat surprised by his comment. He had grown so used to the warm temperatures he hardly noticed them. "Oh yeah. I have to keep it warm in here, because my workers are used to an _extremely_ hot climate. They just can't stand the cold."

"Who are the workers?" asked the scruffy boy.

"All in good time. Now..."

He lead the way down the hallway, and was moments later horrified when the gum-chewer hugged him tightly. "Mr. Wonka, I'm Violet Beauregarde."

After taking a moment to recover from this shock, Wonka replied shortly, "I don't care." He continued down the hallway.

"Well, you should care, because I'm the girl who's gonna win the special prize at the end."

Wonka lightened at this. With someone as confident as this, their downfall was all the better. "Well, you do seem confident, and confidence is key."

He was once again surprised as the other girl skipped in front of him and said with a grandly fake smile, "I'm Veruca Salt. It's very nice to meet you, sir."

"I always thought a verruca was a type of wart you got on the bottom of your foot. Ha ha!" he said, after regaining his composure. The girl seemed offended.

He was about to keep moving forward when yet another child stepped up to introduce himself.

"I'm Augustus Gloop. I _luff_ your shocolaht," said the fat German boy.

Wonka regarded the chocolate smeared on his face with distaste. "I can see that. So do I. I never expected to have so much in common."

He was about to move on, when it occurred to him that if he were to address the other children before they could try to introduce themselves, that might hopefully be the end of these interruptions. He turned back to the last two.

"You. You're Mike Teavee. You're the little devil who cracked the system." The boy regarded him with an expression of stone.

Wonka turned to the fifth child. "And _you_," he said, not knowing the boy's name. "Well, you're just lucky to be here, aren't you?"

Wonka lifted his gaze a little higher to speak to the adults. "And the rest of you must be their--"

As the visitors watched him with curiosity and wariness, he tried to spit out the dreaded word, but he couldn't bring himself to do so.

"Parents," supplied a man in a bland suit.

"Yeah!" Wonka said, relieved. "Moms and dads."

He suddenly zoned out of what was happening and was immersed with memories that were flooding back to him. "Dad? ...Papa?"

Once again his guests regarded him cautiously as a look of combined horror and sadness crossed his face. He came to what senses he had and shoved the memories from his mind. "Okay, then... Let's move along."

With determination not to be sidetracked again, Wonka marched briskly toward the end of the hall.

:-----:


	4. One Down

/-----\

**The Underlying Truth**

One Down

_Nullum Gratuitum_

\-----/

"Important room, this. After all, it _is_ a chocolate factory."

As Wonka and his ten guests crowded around the "small" door, he could just imagine the back pain he might be causing for some of the adults. No reason to go easy on _them_.

"Then why's the door so small?" asked the hacker.

Wonka wanted to yell that 'it wasn't, was he blind?' But he stayed calm. "That's to keep all the great big chocolatey flavor inside." He laughed at his own little joke.

He reached down to unlock the door, and pushed it open to reveal not only that the door wasn't quite so small, but also... his _paradise_.

This was his room. He would sleep there were it not for the candy that could be contaminated by any lingering presence. The waterfall calmed him so.

"Now," he said, leading the speechless guests inside, "do be careful, my dear children.

Don't lose your heads."

He could imagine seeing the German boy through eyes in the back of his head, completely freaking out and eating everything in sight.

"Don't get overexcited."

He imagined seeing the German boy touching everything whether it gets eaten or not. Touching Wonka himself. He suppressed a shudder.

"Just keep very calm."

He stood there another moment, taking it all in. It never lost its brilliance, each time he entered felt like the first. The scruffy boy broke his moment of peace.

"It's beautiful."

"What?" Wonka was surprised, almost angry. These children, constantly interrupting. They'd get theirs. "Oh, yes, it's very beautiful."

The group continued forward, Wonka giving facts about the candy every so often. His river made him so proud.

He decided to mention the grass.

"Do you like my meadow? Try some of my grass." The incredulous looks he got! "Please have a blade, please do. It's so delectable and so darn good-looking." Just like me, he thought.

"You can eat the grass?"

"Of course you can! Everything in this room is eatable. Even I am eatable. But _that_ is called cannibalism, my dear children, and is, in fact, frowned upon in most societies. Yeah." Wonka's vast knowledge of cannibalistic ways might make some wary. He decided to drop his speech there.

"Enjoy! Go on, scoot," he said, waving them off.

Everyone headed off in different directions, leaving Wonka once again to his own time. A moment to think. The German boy seemed quite tempted indeed upon mentioning the eatableness of everything. He could see him tearing through the grass now.

"Daddy, look over there!"

The spoiled girl's call caught his attention and he went over. She had seen an Oompa-Loompa. As everyone else, save for the German boy, gathered around to see it, they started asking questions.

"Where do they come from?"

"Who are they?"

"Are they real people?"

Wonka frowned down at the hacker, who had asked the last question. "Of course they're real people, they're Oompa-Loompas."

"Oompa-Loompas?"

"Imported, direct from Loompaland," Wonka continued.

"There's no such place," the balding man said.

"_What?_" Wonka snapped. If there was one thing he hated most, more even than being told what to do, it was being told he was wrong. Especially when he was most certainly _lying_.

"Mr. Wonka, I teach high school geography, and I'm here to tell you--"

"Well, then you'll know all about it and, oh, what a terrible country it is," Wonka interrupted.

He launched into a story about exploring for candy flavors (as if he'd really leave his factory for _that_) and meeting the Oompa-Loompas there, making some agreement for cocoa beans. The truth was they were better for the job than people - they had no vocal chords to aid in the filing of law suits.

"They are _such_ wonderful workers." They seemed to be buying his story. "I feel I must warn you, though, they are rather mischievous. Always making jokes." He had really just given most of them a mild drug to keep them from being so sullen. It might've scared some of the guests into suspicion.

"Augustus, my child, that is not a good thing you do!"

The German woman's cry startled everyone, and they turned to see her son stooped at the river, scooping the chocolate up and drinking it.

Wonka tried to look concerned, and it worked to an extent. "Hey, little boy! My chocolate must be untouched by human hands!"

As he expected, the boy heeded not, and, to his delight, fell into the river. He thought it would take longer than that. As the others gasped or let out a small cry of shock, Wonka rolled his head to one side to barely stop a smile.

"He'll drown!" gasped the boy's mother, as her son flailed around in the thick mixture. Chocolate was especially ideal for this as it was hard to stay afloat in. "He can't swim!"

Wonka raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected that. Bonus.

"_Save him!_"

The shouting continued as Wonka spied the chocolate pipes coming this way, toward the now chocolate-coated boy. Just as he had instructed.

This time it was even harder to stop a smile from surfacing.

The pipe was lowered in near the boy, and caused a strong suction in the river. The boy was immediately pulled toward it and into the whirlpool. After circling a few times, he was sucked up into the pipe, too.

He went upward a bit, but, as Wonka knew, he was too big to continue for long. He started to stick about halfway up.

Wonka could hear others talking around him, but didn't care to listen. He was busy congratulating himself on a perfectly executed plan.

It was when the boy was fully stuck that the Oompa-Loompas started to sing.

Actually, they weren't really singing. The evolutionary lack of vocal chords prevented that. But Wonka had provided them with a track to perform to. He had even choreographed it himself.

"Look, the Oompa-Loompas!"

"What are they doing?"

Wonka thought that was quite obvious, but his current ecstatic mood stopped him from snapping. "Oh, I believe they're gonna treat us to a little song. It _is_ quite a special occasion, of course. They haven't had a fresh audience in many a moon."

The Oompa-Loompas did their routine almost perfectly, only a few barely noticeable stumbles here and there. They did quite an impressive job making it look as if they were actually singing.

At the end of the song, perfect timing really, the boy was sucked all the way up into the tank containing the chocolate. They all ran back to their posts around the factory just as the pipe was being retracted and started moving away.

"Bravo!" Wonka said, clapping. "Well done."

Nobody joined him in his applause.

"Aren't they delightful? Aren't they charming?"

"I do say, that all seemed rather rehearsed," said the British man.

"Like they knew it was gonna happen," added the hacker.

Surprisingly, Wonka did not expect this to arise. He mentally kicked himself. He should have known they would be suspicious. But, as always, he came up with an excuse quickly.

"Oh, poppycock."

Maybe not quite _that _quickly.

He walked away, hoping that the subject would be dropped, at least temporarily.

"Where is my son? Where does that pipe go to?"

"_That_ pipe," (here he indicated the pipe that was still being moved away) "just so happens to lead directly to the room where I make the most delicious kind of strawberry-flavored, chocolate-coated fudge!" Time to start up a little panic.

Of course, that's not where those pipes went. He couldn't have contaminated chocolate used, now, could he? He had prepared for the chocolate to be disposed of afterwards. But no one else could know that. It had to seem like an _accident_.

"Then he will be made into strawberry-flavored, chocolate-coated fudge! They'll be selling him by the pound all over the world...!" The woman was flustered, to say the least.

"No," Wonka replied shortly. "I wouldn't allow it. The taste would be terrible."

What you could call a look of disbelief swept across the German woman's face. What kind of man _was_ he, to be so unconcerned?

"Can you imagine Augustus-flavored, chocolate-coated Gloop? Ew! No one would buy it."

Wonka proceeded to make a strange noise to summon an Oompa-Loompa.

"I want you to take Mrs. Gloop up to the Fudge Room, 'kay? Help her find her son."

The Oompa-Loompa blinked in acknowledgment of his task.

"Take a long stick and start poking it around in the big chocolate mixing barrel, 'kay?" He poked his walking stick for emphasis.

The Oompa-Loompa bowed and took the German woman by the hem of her dress to show her to the Fudge Room.

"Mr. Wonka?"

"Wha-?" he said, surprised yet again by sudden speaking.

"Why would Augustus's name already be in the Oompa-Loompa song, unless--?"

"Improvisation is a parlor trick. Anyone can do it," Wonka supplied, ready with an excuse this time. He turned to the gum-chewer. "You, li'l girl. Say something. Anything."

"Chewing gum."

"Chewing gum is really gross. Chewing gum, I hate the most." Wonka was proud of his rhyme. They'll buy it, he thought. "See? Exactly the same."

"No, it isn't." Wonka _knew _the hacker would cause trouble.

He was, however, quite tired of making up excuses by now. "Uh, you really shouldn't mumble, because I can't understand a word you're saying."

He didn't have anything to mumble to _that_, did he?

"Now, on with the tour."

:-----:


	5. A Disgusting Habit

/-----\

**The Underlying Truth**

A Disgusting Habit

_Nullum Gratuitum_

\-----/

Wonka showed his guests to the river's edge, where his custom-made candy boat was approaching. Rows of Oompa-Loompas sat inside, rowing, with what could be called a leader at the front, setting a drumbeat to row to.

Wonka stared ahead with an austere expression on his face as the boat pulled up to the shoreline in front of him. The Oompa-Loompas looked rather sullen. Perhaps later he would remind them to be more cheerful. However, the look he gave them must have done it, as they chuckled once the boat had stopped moving.

"What's so funny?" the gum-chewer asked, or rather, demanded.

"I think it's from all those doggone cocoa beans," Wonka supplied. He then added, partly to support his lie, "Hey, by the way, did you guys know that chocolate contains a property that triggers the release of endorphins?"

Some blank looks.

"Gives one the feeling of being in love."

"You don't say." Wonka turned to see the gum-chewer's mother looking at him in a most terrifying way. He mentally vomited. He was proud to have given up women long ago, like his favourite cousin Mikey J.

"All aboard."

The group boarded the magnificent boat, and Wonka instructed the Oompa-Loompas to set off.

After a few moments, Wonka reached for a handy ladle on the side of the boat. He scooped up some chocolate from the river and handed it to the boy sitting next to him, the scruffy-looking one. "Try some of this. It'll do you good. You look starved to death."

Wonka watched as the boy had a sip, and even passed the ladle over to his grandfather. _Ha_, he thought, _Fat-German-Boy germs_.

"It's great!"

"That's because it's mixed by a waterfall," Wonka informed him proudly. Though he was having fun with his little game, he was still immensely egotistical, and had to inform his guests of his genius.

Though, partway through his informative speech, he was interrupted.

"You already said that," the rich girl informed him.

Wonka's expression became unreadable, and he retracted his gloved hand with a rubbery squeak. Time to take the heat off of him.

"You're all quite short, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah. We're children," said Gum-Chewer.

"Well that's no excuse. I was never as short as you."

The argument continued until Wonka closed it with some rock-solid logic.

"Do you even remember what it was like being a kid?" inquired Scruffy.

"Oh, boy, do I." But as Wonka thought about it, he remembered how much he didn't want to remember. "Do I?"

He thought back to a particular Halloween, when he was 11 years old. That year, as always, his father forbade him to keep any candy and threw it in the fire. His mother was gravely ill and confined to bed, as she had been for several years, and therefore wasn't there to stick up for her only child. Wonka's contempt had been growing all these years―his father had changed when his wife was diagnosed.

Wonka was yanked from his reverie when he heard Scruffy calling his name, only to inform him that they were headed for a tunnel. Which he already knew. Normally, he'd be annoyed, but he was still a bit shocked from his sudden memory.

"Oh, yeah. Full speed ahead," he called with little enthusiasm.

The Oompa-Loompas sped toward the dark tunnel.

"How can they see where they're going?" asked Gum-Chewer.

"They can't." Wonka was nearly recovered from his recollection, enough to attempt a scare to his guests. "There's no knowing where they're going," he rhymed.

"Switch on the lights!"

The lights came on and the boat went sharply downhill. Nobody screamed, much to his disappointment.

The boat slowed down once they were level again. "People," he called, "keep an eye out. We're passing some very important rooms here."

As they passed some Cream rooms, he was asked about his Hair Cream Room. How vain he must seem (and he was, though he'd never admit it).

They passed the Whipped Cream Room, where the Oompa-Loompas had forgotten to close the door, exposing a cow being whipped. He nearly winced. That was just what he needed, for his guests to be wary of him. Though some reactions were incredulous, and Scruffy even seemed to think it genius, no one mentioned animal cruelty. He was lucky this time.

The boat turned to go through some rapids and another downward slope, then reached their destination.

"Stop the boat! I wanna show you guys something."

They entered the Inventing Room, where the second child would soon be disposed of.

He sent them off to wander. He showed them his Everlasting Gobstoppers, which seemed to impress them, and then the Hair Toffee, which was less effective. Finally, they came to the oh-so-creatively named Gum Machine.

Wonka had spent a good few day prior to the visit inventing this contraption. It seemed a perfect thing for picking off Gum-Chewer. Her determination to do things her way and her disgusting love of gum were key elements in this plan.

The mere thought of executing another plot made Wonka grin madly. "Watch this," he said as he threw the switch.

He and the others watched as the huge machine did its work…then Hacker ruined the moment by asking, "You mean that's it?" as the single stick of gum was presented.

"Do you even know what 'it' is?"

"It's gum," said Gum-Chewer.

"Yeah, said Wonka appraisingly, though anyone should be able to recognize a stick of gum when they see it. _Now_, he thought, _time to set the bait_. "It's a stick of the most amazing and sensational gum in the whole universe."

He proceeded to give the details of his amazing gum, with the help of his handy-dandy speech cards, and received some positive responses. _Who knows, maybe I'll actually fix this up and sell it_, he thought.

Gum-Chewer did, in fact, express interest, and did not hesitate to pop the gum into her mouth.

Wonka "tried" to stop her from tasting it―he didn't exactly tell her not to―and watched the show begin.

The child, of course, was amazed by his product. _Ought to be_, he thought. _I spent a full four days creating it_.

He still made it seem like he was concerned, but luckily she didn't relent. Her mother seemed proud.

Then she reached the dessert.

Spoiled Brat noticed first. "What's happening to her nose?"

"It's turning blue," answered her father.

Her mother turned her to see. "Your whole nose has gone purple," she speculated uneasily.

"What do you mean?"

"Violet, you're turning violet!" She sounded more worried now.

Wonka was turned to to explain the goings-on. It was then that he noticed she was even wearing blue. How fitting.

"Well, I told you I hadn't quite got it right…'cause it goes a little funny when it gets to the dessert."

Gum-Chewer gave him a worried look.

"It's the blueberry pie that does it. I'm terribly sorry." He put on a terrific show of diving behind his machine in a terrified manner.

The girl continued to turn blue and the rest of the group backed away from her. Wonka was elated that she hadn't spit the gum out―he had thought she'd have more common sense than that.

She started swelling up when the blue colour had completely overcome her body. She became large and round until she was like a blueberry twice as tall as any man.

When she stopped growing, Wonka popped up behind the child's mother and said, "I've tried it on, like, 20 Oompa-Loompas, and each one ended up as a blueberry. It's just weird!"

"But I can't have a blueberry as a daughter. How is she supposed to compete?" the mother said angrily.

"You could put her in a county fair!" offered Spoiled Brat. Wonka laughed. Perhaps children weren't completely good for nothing.

The conversation ended then, as the Oompa-Loompas entered the room for their next performance. They put on another excellent show. The song happened to be one of Wonka's best. He'd put in a lot of heart, as gum-chewing quite disgusted him.

"I want you to roll Miss Beauregarde into the boat and take her along to the Juicing Room at once, okay?" he told the Oompa-Loompas who'd returned to their posts after the song.

"Juicing Room? What are they gonna do to her there?" asked the mother.

"They're gonna squeeze her," he said obviously. "Like a little pimple."

Gum Mother looked fairly revolted. Or horrified. He couldn't tell which. Either was satisfying in his opinion.

"We gotta squeeze all that juice out of her immediately."

The mother hurried to accompany her daughter, and Wonka smiled derangedly. He watched as the blueberry of a child was pushed from the room, then turned to his guests, still grinning from ear to ear.

"Come on," he said. "Let's boogie."

:-----:

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone, whether you've reviewed or just read. This is just a note to ask for some help from the readers.

I'm happy with the story so far, though I wish I could focus less on narrating the story and more on explaining Wonka. However I am quite unhappy with the story's title. Does anyone have any suggestions?

I would appreciate it a lot if you would leave any ideas in a review or message.

Thanks!


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